


when i'm falling (i'm at peace)

by melopeya



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: 5+1 Things, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neil Josten loves Andrew Minyard, POV Andrew Minyard, Protective Neil Josten, Soft Andrew Minyard, Soft Neil Josten, Soft Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, They love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melopeya/pseuds/melopeya
Summary: Andrew has always been the one others look to for protection, for saving, for safety. He’s made his share of deals, wielded knives for others, fought battles that weren’t his to fight. Having someone else do the same for him, to want to do the same for him, is a disturbing and frightening prospect. But maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.Or: 5 times Andrew pushed away Neil’s protection + 1 time he asked for it
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 80
Kudos: 639





	when i'm falling (i'm at peace)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I wrote this rather impulsively, but I just love Neil taking care of Andrew and Andrew grudgingly learning to accept that care. There is a very brief scene of someone unwantedly coming on to Andrew in #4, so feel free to skip past that if it isn't your thing! This is set in Neil’s third year/Andrew’s fourth. The title is from Falling by Florence and the Machine. I hope you enjoy <3

1.

Andrew was either dying or dreaming. Neither option fazed him too much, but he was mildly surprised at the realization that he’d prefer the latter. He reached out to see if he could grab onto anything tangible in the darkness that surrounded him, and a little black butterfly came away from the walls of the inky whirlpool he’d found himself in. _Ah, a dream then._ Hell probably didn’t have butterflies. 

Comfortable with the conclusion that he was, in fact, just dreaming and not on the brink of death, Andrew closed his eyes and waited for something to catch him. 

“...fuck off, Nicky, he’s sleeping.” 

“Neil it’s literally 1:30 in the afternoon, even _I’m_ awake. I just need to ask him--”

“No.” 

“--for the car! He can’t ban me from it forever.”

“No to waking him up and yes, he actually _can_ ban you forever because it’s his car.”

Andrew scrunched the sheets with his fingers to confirm that he was awake and present but kept his eyes closed so as not to get involved in whatever it was Nicky wanted. Nicky, who most definitely could _not_ drive the Mas after he’d nearly crashed it trying to dance and drive at the same time. A small pinch of _something_ niggled in Andrew’s chest as he slowly gained awareness that Neil was… protecting him? _What an idiot_. His thoughts drifted back to his dream of falling through the blackness and no, falling wasn’t a new sensation at all, was it? 

“Fine! Fine, I’m leaving! God, Neil, you’re such an asshole. Good thing you’re pretty.” 

Andrew’s eyes flashed open at that, just in time to see Nicky’s flirtatious smirk turn into something a little more appropriately horrified as he met Andrew’s gaze. He bolted out of the room and Andrew listened smugly as the door to their suite banged shut. Neil turned around to face him. “How long have you been awake?” 

Andrew gave him a small shrug and sat up, swinging his feet to the floor. “I don’t need you to fight Nicky for me.” 

Neil ignored him. “Do you want anything to eat?” he asked, walking out of the bedroom. Andrew didn’t respond but stood and followed Neil to the kitchen. Nobody else was in the living room, and Andrew took the opportunity of an empty dorm to come up behind Neil at the counter and wrap his arms around Neil’s waist. 

This was new for them, the almost hugging and all, but once they’d started it was hard to stop, especially when given the luxury of privacy. “Well?” Neil asked again, leaning into Andrew’s chest. “Food?”

Andrew thought for a moment before reaching around Neil to grab the box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch sitting on the counter. He stepped away, already missing Neil’s warmth, and grabbed a handful of the sugary squares. Neil turned around and they stood facing each other. 

“Nicky wanted to go to the mall,” Neil said, answering an unasked question. “I figured you wouldn’t want him anywhere near the car after the dancing incident.” 

Andrew’s mouth twitched against his will. Sometimes it was ridiculous how well Neil read him, even more ridiculous was how Neil _remembered_ things about him, tried to use them to _help_ Andrew. He still wanted to protest the idea that Neil felt the need to stand in between Andrew and the world, wanted to break whatever sense of obligation Neil seemed to have right in half. 

“Two more seconds of the macarena and there would’ve been no more car,” he said instead, recalling the memory. 

Neil scoffed but didn’t say anything after that. He was in an odd mood, and Andrew couldn’t quite pin down why. He didn’t like that. And he doubly didn’t like not knowing how to figure out what was going on. Instead of asking Neil about it verbally, Andrew chose to very maturely throw three pieces of cereal at him. 

“What the fuck, Andrew?” Neil raised an eyebrow. The cereal fell unceremoniously to the floor. 

Andrew shrugged. “You’re being weird.”

Neil looked incredulous. “ _I’m_ being -- you just -- ugh, fuck off!”

“That was eloquent.”

Neil glared at him for a few seconds and then visibly deflated, his frustration seemed to break like a fever. “I just…” he began. “I hate how people think you owe them shit. You don’t. You don’t owe any of them anything. You do so much for them and they just still want more.” Neil looked away, and Andrew tamped down any retort that threatened to push past his lips. More importantly, he had the sudden urge to kiss Neil silly. Going with that impulse, he set the cereal down and took the two steps to get back into Neil’s space. Neil barely reacted, simply slouching down against the counter so he was right at Andrew’s eye level. Andrew slowly braced his hands on the counter, essentially locking Neil in place. 

Neil’s breath hitched slightly, the way it always did when Andrew had him secure like this. That was new, too. It had been a revelation that, even when Andrew didn’t _need_ Neil to be restricted, they both still liked it. Andrew leaned in until he was a breath away from Neil, whose eyes had darkened so much they were nearly black. “ _Yes,_ ” Neil whispered, once again providing an answer Andrew hadn’t asked for but wanted to hear anyway. 

Andrew finally leaned in, capturing Neil’s chapped lips with his own. The little pinch that had flared in his chest that morning made itself known again, except it was quickly drowned out by the roar of exhilaration that consumed Andrew’s being. _Every fucking time_. Kissing Neil should’ve been old news by now, he’d been doing it for almost two years. His annoyance at his own desire was forgotten as Neil pulled away to plant kisses down Andrew’s throat, his hands burying in Andrew’s hair. Andrew’s own hands were regretfully still on the counter, and _not_ on Neil’s body. He rectified that situation immediately, gathering Neil’s waist in his arms to pull him close. Neil let out a quiet gasp, and Andrew couldn’t stop the shiver that traveled down his body at the sensation on his neck. He let his hands travel down Neil’s back to cup his ass as he coaxed Neil’s lips back to his. Neil moaned softly into his mouth as Andrew squeezed, pulling Neil flush against his body. Neil kept squirming as if he was trying to get closer even though there was no space left between them. Andrew understood. He didn’t feel close enough either. Neil whimpered softly and Andrew was falling falling falling-- till the sound of a key turning in the lock made him freeze. 

Neil pulled out of Andrew’s grasp and neatly stepped away the second Andrew went still, but his worried expression fell away a second later when he realized what had prompted Andrew to stop. They both watched Kevin make his way to the bedroom with his headphones on, not giving them a second glance. Once the bedroom door shut, Neil seemed to shake himself out of a trance. He looked at Andrew for a moment before saying, “Your morning breath is terrible.”

Andrew flipped him off, turning on his heel to go brush his teeth. 

2.

 _I’m going to kill him_ , Andrew thought for probably the millionth time as he ran across campus. 

Yes, ran. _Andrew Minyard didn’t run_ , even on the court, he made sure he was in the position that required the least amount of running. And yet, here he was. Running. _I’m just going to kill him_. 

He eventually slowed down to a jog as he neared Fox Tower and pulled out his phone to reread the texts Aaron had sent him. 

**Aaron:** andrew 

**Aaron:** andrew pick up

 **Aaron:** ok whatever just get back to the dorm your boyfriend is about to kill someone 

**Aaron:** ANDREW 

**Aaron:** he’s bleeding

 **Aaron:** neil is bleeding, to clarify. the other guy looks way worse. probs a broken wrist or sth

 **Aaron:** anyway just get here. like now 

Andrew had been in class when his phone had buzzed, and he hadn’t opened to check the messages until he’d gotten out. They had been an unwelcome surprise, to put it lightly. He took the stairs two at a time once he reached the building, bracing himself for the worst. _Neil bleeding. Neil with another scar. Neil grimacing in pain, not wanting to let on that he was hurt_. Andrew had seen all that before, and they had both ended up okay. 

Unfortunately, that line of reasoning did little to settle the sparks of panic setting off in Andrew’s chest. 

The door to their suite flew open right as he moved to turn the handle, and Aaron stalked out, looking supremely inconvenienced. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled as he pushed past Andrew. 

“Aaron,” Andrew stopped him. “What the fuck is going on.”

His brother sighed. “Neil’s fine. Just a mild nasal fracture and some bleeding from a cut -- he just got knocked into a corner! No knives or any of that shit,” Aaron added before Andrew went for his own ‘knives and shit.’

“Why?” Andrew gritted out.

“Ask him yourself,” Aaron gestured behind him and walked away before Andrew could get any more information out of him. Andrew walked into the dorm, slamming the door shut behind him. He quickly found Neil in the kitchen, pressing a pack of frozen peas on his face and looking a bit miserable. 

“What did Aaron tell you?” he asked when Andrew stood in front of him without a word. 

“He told me to ask you,” Andrew said shortly, struggling to keep a lid on everything he was feeling. “Would you like to start talking now?” 

Andrew watched as Neil relaxed minutely, a sure sign he was about to spit some lies in Andrew’s face now that he knew Aaron hadn’t revealed anything. “Don’t you dare lie to me,” Andrew growled. 

Neil winced. “One of the soccer guys was just saying some shit. It pissed me off, so I told him to shove it,” Neil smiled wryly. “He shoved me instead.” 

_Oh, you have got to be kidding me._ “This is funny to you?” Andrew couldn’t stop himself from snapping. Neil looked-- fine, for lack of a better word. But he was hiding something, not coming forward with a reason, and Andrew needed to know what it was. Needed to know why it was so fucking easy for Neil to throw himself into danger without a second thought. “Is this a fucking joke to you?” _He needed to lower his voice--_ “Being a fucking idiot all the time?” _Fuck_. 

Neil barely managed to conceal a flinch and Andrew clamped his mouth shut before he could say anything else. No way was he going to apologize for asking valid questions, but he didn’t need to cause Neil any more pain either. 

“It’s not a joke to me,” Neil said in a low voice. 

“Then why, Neil? What could possibly have been important enough to get into a fucking fight with an idiot from the soccer team?” 

Andrew wished he hadn’t asked. He wished he could scoop those words back into his mouth and shove them down his own throat because Neil looked him dead in the eye and said, “You,” as if that made anything better. As if that didn’t make Andrew’s stomach twist into knots and clench even harder. 

“You,” Neil repeated. Andrew wanted to throw up. “They were saying shit about you. I don’t take that lying down, Andrew.” 

Andrew got up in his face, his anger back and boiling, but he wasn’t even sure who he was mad at anymore. The person who broke Neil’s nose? Neil?

Himself?

“How many times,” Andrew bit out, “How many fucking times do I need to tell you that _I don’t need your protection_?” 

“You might as well save your breath,” Neil said, not making any move to shrink away from Andrew’s fury. “It won’t change anything.” Neil took a deep, trembling breath, as if he was trying to push down a bottomless rage of his own. “Those fuckers don’t deserve your name in their mouths.” 

Andrew wanted to punch him. Or walk away from him. Or kiss him. He opted for none of the above and instead took the packet of peas from Neil’s hand, and placed it back on his face as gently as he could. Neil still looked angry, but he let Andrew hold the peas for him, rubbing his hands together and hissing a little when Andrew pressed too hard near his nose. 

“Don’t ever--” 

“No,” Neil interrupted him before Andrew could complete the thought. “Don’t make me promise to not do that again. Don’t make me promise to not do anything if I hear someone say shit about you. Because I’ll break that promise a thousand times over, Andrew.” Neil closed his eyes. “Don’t make me break a promise to you,” he whispered. 

Andrew felt protest after protest struggle to claw their way out of his mouth, but he shoved them all down, unwilling to push Neil any further. He gripped the frozen peas tightly, careful not to press too hard on Neil’s injuries, and gripped the back of Neil’s neck. There was nothing more to say at the moment. 

Later, Andrew would get the name of and deal with the foolish soccer player who’d thought he could mess with Andrew’s _person_ without any consequences. But for now, Andrew contented himself with standing silently in the kitchen, his forehead resting on Neil’s. 

3.

Andrew was falling again. By now, he was more than used to this dream, he even welcomed its murky ambiguity. The pitch black tornado he found himself in was a relief. It meant no other intruders would be knocking down the doors of his subconscious tonight. But then the creeping sense of vertigo that usually accompanied these dreams, one that Andrew didn’t really mind so much anymore, intensified and sent a sick feeling down Andrew’s stomach. He struggled to suck in a breath, his lungs felt two sizes too small, unable to get him the air he needed. _This wasn’t normal_. He clawed at the emptiness around him, desperate to wake up and get to the end of the tunnel. _Catch me._

Andrew’s eyes blinked open. He stared up at the bunk bed above him, and found that his own lungs were fine, were normal. But he quickly caught on to the labored breathing coming from above, from Neil. Slowly, still a little disoriented, he moved off his bed and climbed up the first step of the ladder to Neil’s bunk. Neil was awake, still hyperventilating. His hands were covering his face and his whole body was visibly shaking. Andrew quickly checked that the others were still asleep in their bunks before hoisting himself up to sit on the edge of Neil’s bed. The movement startled Neil enough for his breathing to catch and slow down a bit.

He stared in Andrew’s direction with unfocused eyes. “I woke you up,” he said, in a voice so soft Andrew barely heard the words. 

Andrew just shrugged. His dream had turned sour and he’d been more than happy to leave it. Or was it Neil’s movement that had caused that to happen in the first place? Not that it mattered since now they were both just awake anyway. Andrew scooted up to be near Neil’s face, keeping himself on the side closer to the rest of the room for once. Neil looked up at him, a shade of confusion taking over the panic, when Andrew settled down with his back to the room. 

“Move over,” Andrew whispered, and Neil wordlessly pressed his back against the wall. The thought of his own back exposed to the rest of the world made the sick feeling from the dream return, but Andrew found the urge to keep Neil feeling safe right now more compelling. He could manage this for one night. 

Neil just kept looking at him, a mixture of uncertainty and exhaustion in every shadow and crevice of his face. Andrew didn’t tell him off for staring, he just slid one hand under the single pillow on Neil’s bed and placed the other in between their bodies for Neil to reach out to, if he wanted. He did. 

Andrew stared at their tangled fingers for a few minutes before asking, “Anything to talk about?” 

Neil shook his head minutely against the pillow. Neither of them relaxed. Andrew’s body was still holding the panic that the tail end of his dream had drenched him in, and his internal fight between wanting to keep the world away from Neil with his body and craving the sturdiness of a wall behind him wasn't helping it settle down. Neil still looked lost, the way he usually did after a particularly intense nightmare. 

“Roof?” Andrew asked after what felt like an eternity of just lying in Neil’s bed, facing each other. 

“Not tonight,” Neil mumbled, the first words he’d said since Andrew had laid down next to him. 

“Can we… “ he started tentatively, “Can we do something?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Do something?” 

Neil’s shoulder jerked in an aborted shrug. “Yeah. I just-- want to stop thinking.” 

Andrew thought about it for a moment, assessing himself. “Just kissing.”

Neil nodded, and used his grip on their still joined hands to pull Andrew closer, closer until Andrew was hovering over him. Neil’s legs fell open to let Andrew lay comfortably between them, and Andrew’s hands found themselves pressed into the bed under the warmth of Neil’s back. Andrew brushed their lips together, almost scaring himself with how gentle he was being. How gentle he _wanted_ to be. Neil’s palms came to hold either side of Andrew’s face, and he deepened the kiss, lightly tugging Andrew even closer. Even when he was painfully aware of the other people in the room, Andrew still managed to lose himself in Neil. It was terrifying how quickly he forgot time, how he felt like he was floating, like nothing could touch him when he had Neil like this. _Falling falling falling._ The dregs of his own strange and unpleasant dream seeped away, replaced by the shaky sighs Neil kept trembling out in between kisses. 

“Andrew,” Neil whispered reverently, and Andrew bit down on the corner of his jaw to wipe the vulnerable look off his face. He peppered kisses down Neil’s neck and sucked a mark at the base of his throat. Neil was letting out these soft breathy moans, clearly restraining himself from making too much noise, and Andrew was grateful that his own body was too tired to register just how aroused he was. 

They kept going until their foreheads were just pressed against each other, lips barely moving anymore. Neil was half asleep, and Andrew could feel himself fading too. 

“Thank you,” Neil whispered in a puff against Andrew’s mouth. 

Andrew chose to not dignify that with a response, and made to slide back down to the spot away from the wall. Neil stopped him with a surprisingly firm grip on his wrist. 

“No,” he said. “You don’t have to do that. Sleep on your side.” 

Andrew had to stop himself from physically recoiling at the thought of ‘having a side,’ but he silently moved back over Neil and settled against the wall. Involuntarily, his body relaxed. _Fuck Neil for noticing._ “It doesn’t matter either way,” he lied in a fit of petulance at the idea of being known so intimately. At the idea of Neil still, even in his most fragile state, _still_ trying to protect Andrew. 

“We both know that isn’t true,” Neil murmured, and Andrew wanted to push him off the bed, wanted to push him out of his life. But before any of those thoughts could pick up steam, Neil linked their pinky fingers together and fell asleep almost immediately. Andrew decided he was too tired to be properly annoyed and followed suit. 

4.

Andrew may have gotten less self-destructive when it came to substances, but the burn of whiskey down his throat never failed to calm him down. He hunched over his glass at the bar and waited for Roland to bring him another one. Usually, the heavy bass of the music at Eden’s didn’t bother him, but he was exhausted from the game they’d played (and won) earlier. All he really wanted to do was throw his pajamas on and not leave his bed for twenty-four hours but. Nicky and Kevin had had other plans. 

“Weeeeeee are da chaaaampiooons,” Nicky belted, so loud that Andrew could hear him at their table all the way from the bar. He had no intention of returning to that table any time soon, even if Neil had remained there instead of following Andrew to the bar. Neil had decided to partake in the drinking tonight, in a rare mood to celebrate. Andrew wanted him to do that. He glanced over at the table and felt something in his chest unclench as he watched Neil, squished between Kevin and Nicky, looking like he was actually having fun. 

“Good game tonight?” Roland asked, wiping a glass dry. He was looking at the table too, smiling as Nicky nearly fell to the floor during the second chorus of the song. 

“Nicky would be like that regardless,” Andrew noted. “But yes.” He pushed his empty glass towards Roland. “Whiskey.”

Roland gave him a smirk and disappeared with the glass, leaving Andrew to turn his attention to his phone. It was only half-past midnight, but Andrew just wanted to _leave_. He was contemplating going over to the table to ruin everyone’s fun when he suddenly registered a body that was _too close to him_. He whipped around instantly, his phone clattering on the counter. 

“Hey,” slurred the tall, brunette jerk standing two inches too close to Andrew’s body. “You’re cute. What’s your name, blondie?” The reek of alcohol radiated off the man’s breath and Andrew quickly realized he was trapped between the obstacle of a jerk in front of him and the bar behind him. He hoped that the panic that set in at that thought didn’t show up on his face. He glanced over his shoulder; Roland had gotten distracted by some other customer. _Fuck_. 

“Hi, my name’s ‘none of your business, get out of my face,’” Andrew gritted out. 

To his disgust, the man just chuckled and made to move closer. His stench hit Andrew like a wall and Andrew couldn’t breathe, he just wanted to go home, and _fuck_ his knives were at the fucking house and Roland wasn’t back yet and--

“Ow!” the man yelled out, clutching at the back of his neck and stumbling backward to reveal Neil. Who looked _furious_. 

“What the fuck, man?” jerk-face brunette growled. “What did you just do to my neck?” 

The fire in Neil’s eyes could’ve burnt down the whole bar, and Andrew was suddenly conflicted between the panic from just a few seconds ago, annoyance at Neil for stepping in when he wasn’t needed, and some unexpected tendrils of arousal that sparked at Neil’s attitude. 

“If you have a grain of sense in that thick head of yours, you’ll leave me and my boyfriend the fuck alone,” Neil seethed. The arousal was starting to win over the other brew of feelings, and Andrew couldn’t even bring himself to be put off by Neil’s choice of words. Andrew was definitely ready to leave _right now._

The guy finally walked away, muttering to himself angrily and still rubbing at his neck, and the anger in Neil’s eyes seemed to simmer down slightly. He didn’t look at Andrew though, he just stared at the bar, not saying anything. 

Andrew was back to confused now. “Neil--”

“I want to kill that guy,” Neil interrupted, still staring at the bar. His voice sounded strange. “I want to tear that guy to shreds, Andrew.” He rubbed at his face with shaking hands. “I can’t-- I need to _do_ something.” 

Andrew abruptly felt like a bucket of water had been dumped on his head. He felt like he was looking in a mirror. He knew what this was, knew what it felt like to want to hunt someone down for hurting someone important to him. He’d seen the tremor that was coursing through Neil’s hands in his own, when they’d wrapped around Kevin’s neck on a bus in a demand to know where Neil was. But-- it was wrong, seeing all this on Neil. Seeing this reaction elicited because of _him_ , because of _Andrew._

“Cut the drama, Neil,” Andrew chided, wondering if Neil could see how quickly he was losing his composure. He probably could. But Neil didn’t need to hear Andrew say that he’d been caught off guard, or had felt relief before annoyance when Neil had arrived. And he _definitely_ didn’t need to know about Andrew getting turned on watching Neil dress down the asshole. 

He didn’t know what to do with the fury he saw in every line of Neil’s face. Warm, silly, tipsy Neil, who had been laughing out Queen lyrics with Nicky just minutes ago, but looked more like the son of the Butcher now than Andrew had ever seen him before. 

“Can we go home?” Neil asked quietly. “I can’t-- I need to not be here.” 

Well, it seemed Andrew was getting his wish one way or another. They rounded up the others, who seemed to pick up that something was off and followed without complaint. Andrew kept sneaking glances over at Neil in the passenger’s seat, but Neil didn’t look back at him even once. His eyes still had that startling blend of looking lost and looking like he was two seconds away from committing a murder. His hands were still shaking. 

Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin all stumbled off into their rooms once they got to the house, and Neil made a beeline for the bathroom. He didn’t come out for thirty minutes, during which Andrew had made himself comfortable in bed. He tried to find some remnants of panic from earlier, but surprisingly came up empty. He was actually okay.

He looked up when Neil came in and gently closed the door. His expression was unreadable, but his hands had stopped shaking. 

“I’ll sleep in the living room tonight,” he said.

“And why would you do that?” Andrew asked. He didn’t _want_ to ask. Neil had the right to sleep away from him, but if this was supposed to be for Andrew’s benefit, Neil was very misguided. He hadn’t noticed yet that for Andrew, having Neil around had somewhere along the way started feeling better than not having Neil around. Even on a night like tonight -- especially on a night like tonight.

Neil faltered. “I--” 

“Cut the bullshit, Josten. I don’t need whatever you think it is I need right now, and I don’t need you fucking tip-toeing around me. Just get in bed, I’m fucking tired.” 

Neil hesitated before his shoulders slumped and he walked over to the bed. He got in but stayed as close to the edge as possible, leaving a wide berth for Andrew to decide what to do with. And the funny thing was, Andrew knew what he wanted, and it was _not_ distance. He’d known since he’d literally wanted to jump Neil’s bones at the bar. But looking at Neil now, he knew that was definitely not happening tonight; that was probably for the best, but he’d eventually have to unpack his own readiness to touch Neil, to be with Neil in that way after what had happened. He hadn’t been expecting that. 

He reached out across the bed and tugged Neil’s wrist, giving him permission to come closer. Neil looked at him warily but inched towards the middle of the bed. Andrew kept tugging until he could feel Neil’s breath on his face, their foreheads bowed together. Neil’s blue eyes never left Andrew’s, and Andrew wanted to let himself fall into them, to be ensconced in their safety. 

“Are you feeling less homicidal now?” Andrew murmured. “Funny, that’s usually something people ask me.”

Neil just glared at him, clearly not in the mood to joke about the night’s events any time soon. “That worthless piece of shit deserves to die.”

Andrew wanted to laugh. If only the rest of the world could see this Neil, the illusion of Neil the helpless, awkward, gentle sweetheart would be shattered. There was no trace of a lie in Neil’s tone; he meant what he was saying. 

“What did you do to his neck?” Andrew wondered.

“Just pinched at the pressure points and twisted,” Neil said casually. “He’ll be fine, he may just have a hard time moving his neck around for a bit.” Andrew could hear the unspoken _and he should’ve gotten worse_. It was unsettling, seeing so much of himself in Neil. He always knew they saw and understood each other’s darkness in a way nobody else could, but the explicit desire for violence was not something either of them possessed -- unless the other person was involved. Andrew knew that was true for him, but he hadn’t banked on it being a two-way street. 

Too tired to think anymore, Andrew slowly slid his hand to hold the back of Neil’s neck, and Neil _shuddered_. “Sleep,” Andrew commanded softly. Neil listened. 

5.

“I have to study for discrete,” Neil laughed, batting Andrew’s face away. The half-hearted protest did little to stop Andrew from ducking back down to continue the very important work of leaving as many hickeys as possible right under the collar of Neil’s shirt. Neil’s breath hitched and he tightened his grip on Andrew’s hair, completely contradicting his original statement. 

“What’s two plus two?” Andrew bit into Neil’s jaw. 

Neil arched into Andrew, gasping out, “Four, you fucker.”

Andrew almost smiled into Neil’s neck. “That should be enough studying for now.”

Neil chuckled and nosed at Andrew’s hair until Andrew came up to kiss him properly. It had been a good day. Andrew’s evening class had been canceled so he’d stopped by Neil’s favorite Thai place to get takeout and then headed back to the dorm where he knew Neil was breaking his head over his discrete exam. In reality, Neil was pretty much overprepared for the test, he’d just somehow gotten it into his head that he knew nothing. But as Andrew had suspected, the smell of good food and Andrew's not so subtle attempts to distract Neil with kisses had worked like a charm. 

Andrew shifted off of Neil and landed on the bed beside him, pretending not to notice when Neil snuggled closer to him, curling under his arm. 

“The others are going to be back soon,” Neil whispered into Andrew’s shoulder. 

Andrew grunted in annoyance. Neil was right. They had practice soon, and Kevin, Nicky, Robin, and Aaron would be back from their dinner just in time for them all to change and head over to the court. If it were up to Andrew, he and Neil would lock themselves in the dorm and not leave for the rest of the night. He looked over at Neil, who had closed his eyes and made himself quite comfortable in the crook of Andrew’s arm. Exy could go fuck itself. 

Much to Andrew’s displeasure, the second the others got back Neil jumped out of bed, buzzing with energy again. Andrew very reluctantly followed after him and soon they were on their way to the court. 

The season was well underway, and with an important game coming up, the tension in the locker room was palpable. Everyone was strung out and stressed and Wymack was already yelling at them five minutes into practice. 

There were days when the anxiety leading up to a game propelled everyone to put their all into working together. This was not one of those days. Nobody was listening to each other, everyone trying to make a play go their own way. Robin was having a particularly bad day and kept freezing any time the ball got near her goal. Andrew determined that other people were fucking things up enough as it was, and he actually made an effort to block every shot that came his way instead of letting them whistle past him. It wasn’t so much for the sake of team spirit, but more for Neil, who looked like he was two seconds away from having a nervous breakdown on the court. If he’d carried the team’s success as a burden on his own shoulders before, this year as captain had taken his sense of obligation and shot it through the roof. It frustrated Andrew to no end. He hated when Neil looked like this, guilt-ridden, when none of it was really his fault. 

“Okay, let’s take a break, guys,” Neil called out, apparently at the end of his rope. “Be back on the court in five.”

Everyone dragged their feet to the benches to get water and stretch out. Andrew came up behind Neil and nudged him with his racquet so he’d turn around.

“See now if we’d just stayed in bed, we could’ve avoided all this,” Andrew lamented. 

Neil didn’t smile. “This is bad. This is really, really bad. I should’ve decided on formations earlier, we should’ve had Robin practicing her blocks against me and Kevin from the start, I should’ve known--”

Andrew cut him off with a slightly harder jab of the racquet. “This isn’t a one-man team, Junkie.” 

Neil almost looked like he wanted to believe him when Kevin came stomping over, positively seething. 

“This is an absolute shitshow, Josten! We are so thoroughly fucked!” Kevin’s voice echoed through the court and most certainly caught the attention of everyone else. “What the fuck have you been having us do all this time if we can’t get it together for one fucking second!” 

Andrew watched Neil stifle a flinch and a flare of anger sparked within him. “Take a walk, Day,” he snapped. 

Kevin whirled around to face him. “No, Andrew we don’t have the time to be fucking around here okay? And you were supposed to get Robin into better shape than this by now, she keeps ducking away from every shot that comes her way!”

“We’re all trying our best, Kevin!” Robin exclaimed, undeterred by Kevin’s callousness. 

“It’s not enough!” he yelled. He turned his attention back to Andrew. “Promise me you’ll lock down the goal on game day.”

Andrew blinked. 

“Promise me!” Kevin repeated, getting up in Andrew’s face. “If nobody else is going to get their shit together, I need our goal to be a steel trap. You will play both halves if you need to, I don’t fucking care how you need to do it--” 

“Kevin.” Neil’s icy voice cut through Kevin’s rant like a knife. “Get away from him.”

Kevin looked at Neil like he was crazy. “What? I need--”

“I said get. Away. From him.” 

Everyone went quiet as Kevin took two big steps out of Andrew’s space, and Andrew let out a breath and unclenched the fist he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. If Kevin hadn’t stepped away when he did, Andrew would’ve probably swung at him without thinking twice about it. 

“Right,” Neil said, his voice still terrifyingly detached. He turned to face the rest of the team, who had all frozen in place. “I’m going to say this once, and if I ever have to repeat myself we’re going to have a problem. Andrew is a goalkeeper. He is not god, he is not a magician, and he’s _not_ the only fucking member of this team. Everyone, and I mean _everyone_ ,” Neil shoots a look at Kevin, “has been an absolute mess today. But Andrew has been doing his fucking job. What we’re _not_ going to do is tell him that he’s the only one who needs to be doing his part when nobody else is doing shit! You all treat him like he’s a fucking _machine_ when he’s a _person_ just like the rest of us. He isn’t a ticket to victory, he’s your teammate, all of you, it’s about fucking time you realized that. Work with each other, work with him, _that’s_ how we win. Now everyone get the fuck back on the court, Robin run drills with them. I need a fucking break from this shit.” Neil pushed his hair from his face, and Andrew was sure he was the only one to notice the slight tremor in Neil’s hand, betraying how hard he was working to keep his anger in check. 

Neil stalked towards the locker rooms, leaving everybody stunned and silent. After a few moments, Robin led everyone back onto the court and Andrew went to find Neil. 

He was sitting on one of the benches in the locker room, hunched over with his head in his hands. After a quick internal battle on where he should sit, Andrew chose to kneel on the ground in front of him. Neil’s head snapped up from his hands to look at him. 

“That was some speech,” Andrew commented. 

Neil’s eyes flashed. “I meant it,” he gritted out. “You said it yourself, this isn’t a one-man team. Except sometimes it is, only the man is you.” Neil shook his head. “Even Wymack pretends to not see it sometimes. But it’s never been fair, not to you.” Neil’s chest heaved with something that sounded like a sob. “Even I’ve done that.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“My first year. I did. I made you promise me shit like that.”

Andrew gripped Neil’s hands in his. “That wasn’t the same. We made a deal. And I don’t need you to tell everyone off for asking me to do what I’m here to fucking do. There’s no point in blowing up at the team over nothing.”

“Over _nothing_?” Neil spat. “Don’t tell me what to care about, Andrew. That isn’t your fucking call.” He looked at their hands, Andrew’s still holding Neil’s, and took in a shaky breath. 

Andrew wasn’t delusional enough to think half of the team gave two shits about him or his well-being. And he knew he was good enough at what he did to be counted on to pull off things like locking down the goal during a game. Nothing anyone said today had taken him by surprise, but what _had_ caught him off guard was Neil’s outburst. 

“Do you not want me to lock down the goal?” he asked, not understanding why Neil would ever be opposed to such a thing.

“I don’t want to need you to lock down the goal to win. That just means we’re a shitty team who puts unrealistic pressure on a single teammate to do something crazy,” Neil looked Andrew straight in the eye. “You don’t deserve that.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Andrew snapped, unable to hear Neil say shit like that, as if it were a fact. As if it were true. “Just shut the fuck up, Neil.” 

Neil’s gaze didn’t waver for a second, but he didn’t say anything after that. They sat there for the rest of practice, Neil on the bench, and Andrew on the floor in front of him. It was funny, even though he was looking up at Neil, Andrew felt like he was looking down from the edge of a cliff. And he thought he spotted Neil at the bottom, ready to catch him if he fell. 

+1 

Andrew woke up covered in sweat. For the fifth night in a row. Gone were the peaceful dreams of falling through darkness. The too-real, memory induced, nauseating nightmares had returned with a vengeance after being quiet for a few months. Andrew knew Bee would say that’s just how it went sometimes, but Andrew felt defeated in a way he hadn’t in a long time. He rolled over to grab his phone to check the time. Four in the fucking morning. He thought about going up to the roof but quickly decided against it because him getting up would almost definitely wake up Neil, and he did not want to deal with that right now. 

Neil knew, of course he knew, that something was wrong. Andrew had barely looked at him all week, had talked to him only out of necessity, had certainly not touched him. And he’d stepped aside and out of the way without question, but Neil’s concern was almost a physical thing Andrew could reach out and touch and it made him sick. It wasn’t that Andrew was keeping his distance because he didn’t trust Neil to respect boundaries, it was that he knew Neil would somehow find a way to _care_ for Andrew while still being as mindful as ever. Andrew didn’t think he could handle that. 

He stared up at Neil’s bed until the sun came up. He could feel the bed shake slightly as Neil sat up and stepped down to go for his run. He heard Neil come back, shower, get ready for the day. And even though he’d kept his eyes closed for all of that, Andrew knew Neil had been looking at him, checking on him, every step of the way. _Idiot_. 

Andrew finally heaved himself out of bed around noon, once the dorm was completely empty. A shower felt impossible, the thought of taking his clothes off was enough to make him nauseous. He half-heartedly swished some mouthwash between his teeth to make his breath smell less like death, and studied his haggard reflection in the mirror. He hadn’t changed in two days, still in the same ratty t-shirt and sweats that probably belonged to Neil, if their length was anything to go by. The circles under his eyes were atrocious, a fun side effect from getting less than three hours of sleep every night that week. He scowled at himself for good measure before getting back into bed without eating anything. 

Time was strange on days like these. One moment it was noon and the sun was up, but then Andrew blinked and the sun had disappeared and the clock said it was eight, but surely eight hours couldn’t have passed him so quickly. Neil had gotten back at some point. Andrew wasn’t sure when, but now he could hear his voice from the living room. Andrew couldn’t make out what he was saying exactly, but he sounded angry enough to startle some curiosity out of Andrew's apathy. Andrew tugged on a sweatshirt and crept towards the door, cracking it open to see what was going on. 

Neil wasn’t talking anymore, but he was standing with his back to the door of their room. Nicky, Kevin, and Aaron were standing by the kitchen, looking annoyed. Nicky’s eyes widened when he caught sight of Andrew. 

“Look!” Nicky cried out. “Andrew’s literally right there, he’s _fine_. Right, Andrew?”

Neil turned around, and Andrew was disturbed by how closed off his expression was. Was he angry at Andrew?

Everyone remained silent for a few moments before Aaron threw his hands in the air. “This is fucking ridiculous, I’m going to find Katelyn.” He left the room before anyone could say another word. 

Andrew’s voice was stuck in his throat, unable to ask what was happening. Kevin seemed to pick up on that, his expression uncertain when he said, “Andrew… we were just-- it’s um. It’s Friday.” 

_Friday_. Friday? Andrew repeated the word slowly over and over in his head until it lost all meaning. He had no idea what Kevin was trying to say. 

“Friday, Andrew? Eden’s?” Nicky pressed. 

Oh. They wanted to go to Eden’s. Andrew’s mind caught up just as Neil said, “They want to go to Eden’s.” Andrew still couldn’t piece together the expression on Neil’s face, but he appreciated the synchronous timing Neil had unknowingly achieved. 

“It’ll be fun!” Nicky smiled, voice tinged with desperation. “It’s been a long week, we could all use a break right?”

“We don’t have to,” Kevin rushed to add. “It’s just like-- it would be nice or something. If you could drive us.” 

Andrew couldn’t do this right now. He snuck a glance at Neil, who was very pointedly not looking at him, and instead had his gaze fixed on the carpet. 

“Come on, Andrew? What do you say?” Nicky asked again, all hopeful. Andrew just wanted to go back to bed, but he didn’t know how to leave, couldn’t bring himself to say no. Couldn’t bring himself to say anything. And Neil wasn’t looking at him, but Nicky and Kevin were, and he really felt like he was going to be sick now. 

He closed his eyes, opened them again, willed his brain to shut the fuck up. And then he said the only thing that was able to slip past all the barriers that had been building up for the past week. “Neil.” 

Instantly, Neil met his eyes. He barely glanced at Andrew for a second before looking back at Nicky and Kevin. “We aren’t going to fucking Eden’s. Find somewhere else to get drunk and don’t come back here tonight.” His tone was controlled, but his words seemed to slap Nicky and Kevin in the face. 

“Wait a minute, Neil--”

“I said fuck off, Kevin! Both of you,” Neil hissed, heat coloring his tone. Nicky and Kevin looked between him and Andrew a few times before something seemed to finally click for them. They left shortly after with minimal grumbling.

And then it was just Andrew and Neil, and Neil was looking at him as if he were seeing Andrew for the first time. “You asked for me,” he breathed, suddenly all soft and awestruck again now that any threat to Andrew had been taken care of. Andrew didn’t have the energy to tell him off for caring, especially not when Neil was right. Andrew had asked. And just like he’d suspected every single day of this horrific spell, Neil had known exactly what to do the second Andrew’s extremely underused voice had croaked out his name. 

“Hey,” Neil caught his attention again. “Will you let me help?” He wasn’t asking Andrew to tell him what to do. They both knew that Neil already understood what to do, he just needed Andrew to tell him that it was okay. That Neil was allowed in. 

Andrew was tired of keeping him out. He nodded. 

Without another word, Neil sprung into action. Andrew’s eyes tracked him as Neil put water in the kettle to boil, cut up some fruit, and threw frozen chocolate chip waffles in the toaster. After he’d set Andrew to sit in front of the food and tea to nibble at what he could, Neil disappeared. He came out after a bit, nodded approvingly at the mostly empty plate and mug, and proceeded to lead Andrew into the bathroom. He’d drawn a bath, and it looked and smelled so inviting Andrew didn’t even have to think twice about wanting to get in. Neil set a towel on the closed toilet seat, handed Andrew his battered copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ , and left Andrew alone in the bathroom to undress and seat himself in the tub. 

It shouldn’t have worked. It shouldn’t have been so easy. But Andrew felt more at home in his body than he had in a long while, and all it had taken was allowing himself the help Neil had been ready to give him from the start. Andrew thought back to that moment in the locker room, where he’d looked down a terrifying precipice to find Neil standing at the bottom. He thought about Neil saying _I’ll break that promise a thousand times over_ and _sleep on your side_ and _you don’t deserve that_. He thought about sitting on the edge of a roof to feel something and how now all he had to do was look at the man on the other side of the bathroom door to feel a thousand times more than he ever did up there. 

A timid knock at the door pushed him back into the present. Andrew wondered how long he’d been in here, the bubbles had definitely reduced in size, but they still more or less covered his body. 

“Can I come in?” Neil’s voice was muffled. 

“It’s not locked,” Andrew said. _Yes_. 

The door clicked open and Neil poked his head in. “Hey. Ready to get out soon? No rush, just figured you might be a bit of a prune by now.”

Andrew looked down at his hands and realized they were, in fact, very reminiscent of the dried fruit. He didn’t want to get out, though. He shook his head slightly in response; Neil accepted that with a nod and came to sit down on the floor next to the tub. Neither of them said anything. Andrew wasn’t sure what he _could_ say. I appreciate you? Sorry for ignoring you all week? Thanks for being able to read my mind? The waffles were a little overdone, change the setting on the toaster next time? 

Neil turned out to be the one to break the silence. He got on his knees and said, “Yes or no? To washing your hair?” 

Andrew didn’t have to think about it; he nodded. Neil rolled up his sleeves, and got Andrew’s hair wet before massaging the shampoo in with that fucking tenderness Andrew had been trying to avoid all this time. But thinking about it and actually being at the receiving end of it were very different things, and Andrew found he didn’t mind it as much as he’d expected to. He closed his eyes and sighed involuntarily as Neil rinsed the shampoo out before going in with conditioner. Even once the conditioner was out, Neil kept slowly carding his fingers through Andrew’s wet hair. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Thank you for letting me do this.”

Andrew looked at him and instantly regretted it. Neil was too soft, too open, too much and Andrew had fallen off whatever cliff he kept seeing a long time ago, had been falling this whole time, and he was almost about to hit the ground, and _this_ was why he was scared of heights because you fall and you hit the ground except. Except. Neil was there. With open arms, waiting to catch him. And Andrew realized with a jolt that he trusted Neil not to drop him. 

He met Neil’s steady blue gaze, choking on his words. “I-- Neil. I--” 

Neil smiled wetly before reaching out to Andrew and, after getting another yes, wrapping his arms around Andrew’s head. He placed the lightest kiss possible at the crown, and Andrew had to close his eyes before he gave himself away to this man completely. 

“I’ve got you, Andrew,” Neil whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Andrew believed him. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!! If you left a kudos and/or a comment it would make my day <3 I can be found on [twitter](https://twitter.com/manyaaa21) and [tumblr](https://melopeya.tumblr.com/)!


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